The Peterless Plan
by Basmathgirl
Summary: This is an alternative timeline for Donna; one where she 'encountered' Peter Vincent before travelling with the Doctor. What if it had a lasting affect for the Doctor and her ?
1. Chapter 1

**Warning:** Contains mild swear words from the outset; and it assumes you know what the character Peter Vincent from Fright Night looks like. Beyond that, you don't have to have seen the film to follow this story.

**Summary:** This is a alternative sequel to a story I wrote called "Doctor In Cloverfield" [You'll find it on fanfiction at: .net/s/7696579/1/Doctor_In_Cloverfield]. Basically, Donna happened to meet Peter Vincent in Las Vegas during the year she was looking for the Doctor. Peter then found the Doctor lurking and became suspicious of Donna's motives for being friendly when they went alien hunting. He and Donna had an argument and Peter stormed off, leaving her in the middle of nowhere.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything beyond a couple of DVDs.

**A/N:** Okay, I should immediately apologise to regular readers that this is a sequel to a story I have cautiously posted on FFN because (a) of the language, since it involves Peter Vincent from Fright Night, and (b) the story has too many *coughs* sex scenes before this. If I edited them out there'd be hardly anything left. So I hope you won't be offended if you read all the three preceding crossover fics. You can find "Peter's Little Fright in the Night", and "Desperately Seeking the Doctor" via my profile.

* * *

><p><strong>The Peter-less Plan<strong>

**Previously in "Doctor In Cloverfield":  
><strong>

"This!" Peter declared, pointing at his face. "I look exactly the same as him, and you knew it!"

She gasped in surprise; because he had found out, and because that also meant that… "Where is he? Tell me where he is!" she implored him. "Please, Peter!"

"No!" he yelled, and raised his hand as though he was going to strike her. They panted at each other in shock and horror, and then she was running for the door. "NO!" he screamed, grasping desperately for her hand. "Please, Donna! Please!"

She fought him off. "I've got to find him. Get off me!"

He rugby tackled her to the floor. "No, Donna. He said it's the wrong time," he insisted more quietly but with the same amount of vehemence.

She slapped him hard. "I hate you!" she spluttered out and raced for the bathroom in tears.

"Join the f**king club," he replied to himself.

When she emerged from the bathroom half an hour later, Peter had gone.

* * *

><p><strong>Part 1<strong>

.

Donna emerged from the motel bathroom to find the room was empty. Surely Peter wouldn't abandon her in the middle of nowhere, would he? In desperation, she made for the door and thrust it open. The parking lot was completely empty; he'd gone.

The b*st*rd! The utter b*st*rd!

She stood on the wooden veranda and yelled as loudly as she possibly could. She screamed, stamped her feet, hit the door frame; did anything to release her rage from wanting to kill Peter Vincent!

Thank God she knew there was a diner just down the road. Somebody passing through there might be able to give her a lift into the city, or at least point her in the right direction. As for that jealous wanker Peter Vincent: he could burn in hell…

* * *

><p>Donna felt like utter crap. Not exactly unusual when you're heartbroken because some bloke in skinny jeans dumps you in the middle of nowhere after you've had some truly spectacular sex. It wasn't just the sex, if she was honest, but the fact she had grown to quite like Peter despite her better judgement.<p>

Judgement! Who was she kidding? It was Lance all over again; some bloke is nice to her for five seconds and she's pledging her life to him. Well, this was the last time anyone got away with that line! Donna Noble was fine without all that.

Except she wasn't; she felt sick! As soon as she thought it, she had to race to the bathroom and throw up. Fortunately she felt instantly better, so it was probably one of those twenty-four hour tummy bugs that went around every so often. And all the stress of crying secretly in her room wasn't doing her any good. Her period was late for a start. Peter Vincent had a lot to answer for… well, he would if she'd actually talk to him and listen to the lies he wanted to tell her.

Sixteen text messages he had sent her; the cheek! And numerous voice messages were in her voice mail. She had ceremoniously deleted every single one of them without giving him the satisfaction of hearing one word. Not one. Although she would have had to listen to every other word, since the bloke's vocabulary was seriously stunted by his need to punctuate his speech with swear words. She had several happy moments imagining trying to curb his swearing by applying a well-placed cattle prod!

That would teach him to abandon her like that, for smiling seductively, for having such sexy eyes, for being long and lean, and a fantastic lover once she slowed him down, so that she screamed out almost as much as he had done… Damn Peter Vincent and his gorgeous body! Why did he have to spoil it like that?

If he hadn't been so bloody jealous of her searching for the Doctor they could have been something special. Why did she care so much? And why couldn't she stop crying? He was just a bloke after all, and she would beat this feeling; eventually.

It would serve Peter right if she were to go out this minute and find the Doctor. Hah! She'd show him that she didn't need a man in her life. Once she finished sobbing on her bed…

Wilf tapped on Donna's bedroom door. "Donna, love? Are you coming down for a bite to eat?" he called out hopefully.

Donna opened her door a smidge to peep out at him. "No thanks, Gramps. I'm not hungry. Tell Mum I'll do myself something later," she said, trying to pacify him enough to leave her alone.

He really was worried about her. Donna looked so gaunt and world-weary since she came back from the States. It was supposed to be a happy little holiday, with a bit of alien hunting on the side. One minute she was phoning up in high spirits because she had made a friend called Peter who was helping her, then she rang again to say how great he was for rescuing her, and then she had phoned in tears, calling him all the names under the sun. Why she should be upset because he had sent flowers to her room and had tried to contact her numerous times since she got home was beyond Wilf; but he was sure she had her reasons. Sylvia had no idea either, though she had plenty of theories where Donna had gone wrong with the bloke.

"What's the matter with you, Donna? Throwing away a decent man like that!" Sylvia had demanded from her soon after Donna had got home from Las Vegas, and the desperate phone calls had started from Peter. "Talk to him; that's all I ask. Give him a chance."

"No, Mum! You don't understand. I'm finished with him and his petty jealousy. He swanned off and left me to get back to Vegas on my own. Nobody treats me like that," she had replied defiantly.

Sylvia had huffed a loud sigh. "Just don't go telling me you regret it later on; that's all I ask," she had said, realising she had lost the argument. Donna was right; no one should treat her like that, and if Peter Vincent ever turned up on her doorstep she'd wipe the floor clean with him.

* * *

><p>It had finally happened! She was officially sitting in the TARDIS and loving it. In fact, Donna wanted to squeal with happiness! Everything in her room was just perfect, from the décor to the bed she was testing out.<p>

The Doctor peeked in through her open bedroom door. "Everything alright, Donna?" he queried.

She almost bounced off her bed to answer him. "Oh yes! Everything is perfect. Look! I've got a large wardrobe, a dressing table, loads of books, and… get this... an en suite," she enthused, pointing out every single item to him.

"Yes, I can see," he replied, trying to contain his own enthusiasm. "Do you want to have the grand tour of the place?"

"Yes please!" she instantly answered with glee; and the pair of them happily walked around the TARDIS for the rest of the evening.

* * *

><p>The following morning Donna was feeling decidedly queasy; there was no other way to describe it. Oh heck! She thought she had left this feeling behind when she had come on board. Perhaps a decent breakfast would be the cure? Yes, she was sure it would be; so she kept her dodgy stomach to herself and went in search of the Doctor.<p>

The queasiness didn't go away, but she had plenty to distract her as they raced through the hot and steamy streets of ancient Pompeii. Funny how being trapped in a pod within an exploding volcano can totally focus your mind on to something else…

It was only later as she was sat on the pilot seat of the TARDIS console room that her stomach reminded her that it was still carrying out its silent protest about her lifestyle. She held her stomach as though the action would stop it from making itself known.

"Are you okay, Donna?" the Doctor asked her with deep concern. "You don't look very well."

"I must have eaten something in Pompeii that didn't agree with me," she told him, giving her tummy a sympathetic rub. "It'll soon pass."

"Yes," he replied, drawing out the syllable as he thoughtfully considered her. "Is there something you're not telling me? You haven't looked well since you came back."

"I'm fine!" she forced herself to say breezily. "It's just a little tummy bug. I'm susceptible to them. I never used to be, but I've had one bout after another since I got from America."

"You went to America? Why did you go there?" he asked with sudden curiosity.

She waved her hand dismissively. "I went alien hunting. I told you; I was investigating anything that looked remotely dodgy in order to find you," she said, turning her head to hide her blush. She didn't want him to get too big a head by knowing how much she had sought him out.

"I think we ought to take you down to the med bay in order to give you a once over just in case; especially if you've developed a weak stomach," he told her. "I'll no doubt have just the thing to get you all chipper again."

"Alright," she reluctantly agreed. "We can't have me chucking up all over your trousers if we have another day like today."

"It would be unpleasant even if we don't have a day like today," he pointed out with a grin. Holding out a hand towards her, he enticed her with, "Come on, Donna Noble. Let's go and fight this stomach bug of yours. We'll soon have it on the run."

Donna laughed at him. "Thank goodness I don't have the runs! Being sick is bad enough."

"You've actually been sick?" He turned his concerned little face towards her. "You never said that."

"I thought I didn't have to," she retorted. "Too much detail and all that."

"Nothing you can say will be too much detail," he said, trying to reassure her in friendly tones, as they reached the med bay. "Pop up on the table, will you."

"I'll do my impression of a piece of toast, and pop up there," she replied, trying to make light of her nervousness. What if he found something horrible like a tumour? What if it was a stomach ulcer? He might take her straight back home. What if he found nothing at all, and thought she was totally making it up? So many things to worry about!

The Doctor bustled about, uttering little words of comfort, as he took her blood pressure, monitored her heart rate, took a blood sample, waved a weird fancy gadget at her that he claimed took harmless scans; and generally mumbled to himself as he wrote things down. Finally he frowned at her and said, "Do you want the good news or the bad news?"

She considered his demeanour and answered, "Give me the good news first and we'll work our way up to the bad."

"Okay," he said, and then sighed before continuing, "I can tell you that you have no sign of any cancer or ulcer; I know you were secretly worried about that. But the bad news is, Donna, that you are pregnant."

"You what?" she exclaimed. "Pregnant!" Her mind raced to work out how the hell she could be pregnant and how long she could have been so.

"I'm afraid so. Judging by this result you are at least ten weeks pregnant. What do you want me to do about it?" he asked softly.

"Do?" she asked him in shocked confusion. "Like what?"

"Do you want me to help you get rid of it?" he reworded his question.

"An abortion? Oh no! No, I can't do that. I could never do that," Donna quickly replied, holding her stomach protectively. "Does this mean I can't stay with you?"

He reached out to hold both her hands. "Oh Donna; I would never do that to you. You are free to stay here as long as you want. I like having you here," he told her, beaming his friendliest smile.

Donna leant forward and planted a huge grateful kiss on his cheek. "Thank you! Thank you so much!" she gushed, letting soft wisps of her breath fly across his cheek.

The Doctor blushed. For some reason her gratitude and act had caused something unexpected within him; making him feel extremely protective towards her. "That's okay, Donna. Just remember to let me know if there are any problems in the future, eh? For now, I have something that will help with your morning sickness," he stammered out, and then sought through a drawer to find her the tablets he had mentioned. "There you go! One hundred per cent guaranteed to obliterate morning sickness safely."

"Be careful," she warned him, taking the bottle of tablets from him. "I may be declaring my love again for you at this rate." She added in a little wink, and he felt something do a flip in his stomach.

* * *

><p>'Seen one dungeon, seen them all,' Donna thought as she waited patiently for the Doctor to appear. Eventually he did, after being frogmarched down a dark and dingy corridor and then thrown into the same cell as her.<p>

"Donna! Are you okay? Did they hurt you? Is the baby alright?" he asked anxiously, running his hands expertly over her body. His hands ended up resting on her stomach, and his nervous expression turned to that of relief. "Ah! Safe and sound still."

"You can stop feeling me up now, Sunshine!" Donna huffed out at him, clearly embarrassed at his show of concern in front of the other prisoners in the cell. She then spoilt the effect by swaying on the spot; but the Doctor caught her deftly.

He quickly pulled her closer, into his protective embrace. "Don't worry, Donna, I've got you," he crooned into her hair. "We'll soon be out of this dank, musty place and in the sunlight."

She lifted up her chin to gaze into his eyes. "Are you sure?" she whispered in disbelief. "They seem awfully keen to keep us here."

He reassured her with a kiss on the forehead. "I'm sure. Our protest has been formally lodged, so it's just a matter of paperwork now," he murmured back.

For some reason the other prisoners were eyeing them suspiciously, so the Doctor turned their bodies so that Donna didn't have to look at them. There was no way he'd release his hold on her; it had taken him hours to find out where the Sylranians had taken her. Fortunately they had soon changed their tune about imprisoning them when he had pointed out the problems of holding a pregnant woman in such a place. In fact they had strangely changed their tune, now that he thought about it.

A guard appeared at the prison door at that moment, shouting out, "Prisoner known as the Doctor and his wife Donna!"

Donna went to deny the relationship, but the Doctor quickly shushed her and let them be led out, still keeping her firmly within his arms.

The mystery was solved once they got outside. They were greeted by a man who obviously held some sway, and a bunch of armed guards. "Doctor! I hear your wife is carrying a child within her body," the man started to explain.

Donna immediately stiffened within his grasp, and the Doctor held her even more protectively. "Yes. What business is that of yours, if I may ask?" the Doctor called out.

The man shook his head in mock misunderstanding, and exasperation. "We have long had problems conceiving naturally on this world, Doctor. We need to know how and why your wife conceived her child."

"They want to cut me up?" Donna asked in shock.

"No, Donna. I would never let them do that," the Doctor replied.

"I'm not sure that is your choice to make Doctor. Your wife is now the property of my medical laboratory," the man finished telling them.

"Property!" Donna cried out indignantly. "How dare you! I belong to no one, do you hear me? I am my own person!"

"Not helping, Donna," the Doctor snapped at her, pushing her behind him. "Look," he said to the man, "you are going about all this the wrong way. I can help you. I have the means to find out a solution for you all; but you do not need to take Donna."

The man gave a wry chuckle. "Oh I think we do. Guards! Take her!"

The Doctor whipped out his sonic screwdriver and pressed a setting, causing the guards to howl in surprise. Their weapons were vibrating within their hands, causing a high pitched whine and then the weapons increasingly became warm until they were too hot to hold on to anymore.

By the time the guards had recovered their wits, the Doctor and Donna had gone.

* * *

><p>The Doctor assisted Donna to sit down on the pilot seat as they both panted heavily from their run into the TARDIS. "You need to go and lie down for a while," the Doctor instructed her. "I prescribe a good dose of tea and rest."<p>

"Are you ordering me to go and make the tea, Sunshine?" she huffed.

He smiled indulgently back at her. "No, I'll make the tea and I'll bring it to you as you rest. Does that sound better?"

"Much better," Donna agreed. "I could get used to this idea of having a husband."

"Oi! Watch it!" he protested playfully. "Or I shall refer to you as my wife even more."

"You just try it, Spaceman," she playfully threatened in return. "Though I won't complain if you bring biscuits with the tea."

"You not complain? I'd like to see that!" he mocked her. "I'd better bring you some just to see it happen."

Donna eased herself up off the seat. "You'd better, or there'll be words," she teased him.

He took her arm, and guided her down the corridor towards her room. "Words, eh? Would they include the ones 'I', 'bloody', 'love' and 'you' by any chance?"

"Might do," she replied, smirking at him. "And then again, they might not."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Sorry for the delay, but my migraines won't bugger off!

* * *

><p><strong>Part 2<strong>

.

"Hello, Gramps!" Donna greeted Wilf when he opened the front door.

"Donna!" he cheered in return, and rushed forward to hug her. "You're looking well. Being with the Doctor obviously agrees with you!"

"Any chance of a cuppa?" she asked in answer, not wanting to explain things on the doorstep.

Wilf eagerly led the way into the house, and helped strip off her coat, hanging it reverently on the coat stand in the hallway. "Come in!" he told her. "Ooh, it's so good to see you again, my girl."

Donna immediately felt guilty that she hadn't returned home for a visit sooner. But Wilf made her feel so welcome, all that soon disappeared as he idly chatted, telling her all that she had missed so far. "And what about you?" he asked as he placed a mug of tea in front of her. "What's your news?"

"Where shall I start?" she pondered.

"How about with the ring? Why are you wearing a wedding ring?" Wilf asked pointedly.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, and looked at the ring sitting on her left hand. "The Doctor insisted I wear it after we were on Fown. The people there were really anti me and the Doctor because we weren't married. Hopping mad about it they were; threatening to execute me for being a whore. So we played it safe on the next planet after that. I think it was called Lda. By the time we got to Bempob, especially after all that fuss on Sylrania, we decided the ring was a good idea. Well, when people assume you are married they tend to leave you alone," she explained.

"So you're not actually married," Wilf queried.

"Oh no! Not in the usual way," Donna answered. "We have…" And then she blushed.

"I see," Wilf replied.

Sylvia arrived at that moment, so all current events were related again, and dissected until the Doctor appeared about two hours later looking very agitated. He was bouncing on the spot when Donna opened the front door to him. "Donna!" he cried out. "I'm so sorry it took so long. Geniuses, huh?" He swept inside, and then immediately grabbed her around the waist. "Are you okay? Did it go alright? Did you tell them?"

She placed her arms around his neck to calm him down. "Yes, I'm okay, yes it went alright, no I haven't had a chance yet. Does that answer all your questions?"

He chuckled in reply. "Almost; just one more… how's junior doing?"

She smiled softly. "Junior is doing fine, so stop fussing and come and have a cup of tea."

"Tea? Oh good! I'm gasping," he enthused. "Any cake to go with that?"

She playfully swatted his shoulder. "Yes there might be, if you ask nicely; although I'm not sure I should give you any."

"Oh please, Donna!" He made his saddest appeal he could with his eyes and a little pout. "I need rewarding after what I've just been through."

"Who have you upset this time?" she asked with a sigh.

"Only some jumped up adolescent brat, and a Sat Nav system that tried to kill me," he supplied.

"In that case," she said, reaching up slightly to place a kiss on his cheek, "welcome home."

"Aye aye! What's going on here?" called out Wilf when he spotted the Doctor in the hallway. So introductions were made, and identities confirmed with Wilf and Sylvia, who hadn't been that pleased to see the man who had whisked Donna away from her wedding.

"I've come to give Donna some moral support," he admitted when they asked why he was there. He reached out to take a firm grasp of Donna's hand as she remained standing by him. "We've got some news."

"Then we'd better sit down," Wilf replied, inviting them both to go and sit in the lounge. It hadn't escaped Wilf's attention that something was going on between the pair of them, but he waited patiently to hear what it was.

Donna and the Doctor sat anxiously on the settee. The Doctor had never experienced a situation quite like this before; one where he might actually be attacked by a mother with an axe. There was always a first time for everything, he supposed. "Go on, Donna," he softly encouraged her, and gave her hand another comforting squeeze.

Donna took a deep breath. "Mum, Gramps, I've got something to tell you," she began boldly. "I've got some news and I'm not sure if you'll be pleased about it or not."

"Has it got anything to do with that wedding ring you're wearing?" demanded Sylvia, butting in before Donna could draw a second breath.

The Doctor let Donna answer that. "No, Mum. I thought I explained that… It's to do with…. It's something else entirely. The fact is, Mum, Gramps, I'm having a baby. I'm pregnant." She let out a big sigh as she finished.

"Pregnant?" Sylvia gasped in horror. "You're having a baby with _that_ man?"

The Doctor started at the insult, but Donna squeezed his hand back. "Mum, before you wade in with the insults, it isn't the Doctor's baby. If you must know," she paused, not wanting to reveal the name but feeling obliged to anyway, "it was Peter."

"Peter? And after me trying to get you to be nice to him! I can't believe it!" Sylvia exclaimed.

Wilf looked like thunder. "So he deliberately got you pregnant and ran, did he?"

"No, Gramps," Donna replied tearfully. "It wasn't like that, and he doesn't know. He doesn't need to know because I'm keeping it and I'm staying with the Doctor." She tried to hold in a sob, and the Doctor immediately engulfed her in a hug.

"It's okay, love," he told her as she sobbed on his chest.

Sylvia got up and pressed a hanky into Donna's hand, who took it gratefully. "It's alright, Donna," Sylvia said to her in quite a consoling voice. "Me and Dad will support you every step of the way, if this is what you want."

Donna lifted a tear-sodden face to look at her mother. "I do, Mum. I'm keeping this baby no matter what."

"Then we need to say 'welcome to the family, Doctor'," Wilf declared, and got up to shake the Doctor's hand.

* * *

><p>When they got back home to the TARDIS, Martha quickly cried off from staying with them too long, saying she was exhausted and just wanted to just have a bath before crawling into bed; so the Doctor and Donna were left alone to their own devices.<p>

"That didn't go too badly," the Doctor stated when they sat in the kitchen with their ritual nighttime cup of tea. "In fact I'm inclined to say it went excellently."

"Which bit are we talking about?" Donna enquired, as she sat holding her cup tightly. "The factory, Mum's or the fact you almost sacrificed your life again without telling me?"

"I was thinking about the bit at your mum's, but did you mind about the whole sacrificing bit?" he asked, reaching out to take her hand. "It wasn't done on purpose without your permission."

She gave a little shrug. "Of course I'm not upset you almost got killed, leaving me all on my own. It's your decision."

"So you hitting me was you not caring?" he asked her to clarify.

She gave a sniff, and tried to hold back the tears. "Yeah, I don't care, and I'm not crying about that. This is purely hormonal."

"Of course it is," he pretended to agree. "And me doing this is me not caring too," he added, as he soothed a hand through her hair and caressed her cheek.

She smiled at him. "Thought so."

"Let's get you to bed, Mrs Wife. You must be tired out," he said softly.

"I am a bit, Dr Husband," she admitted, adding in a yawn. "Are you coming too?"

"Okay. I'll come and lie with you for a bit; until you fall asleep."

She kissed the side of his hand that sat on her cheek. "Thanks! What would I do without you?"

"Buy a whippet," he instantly replied, and they giggled together.

* * *

><p>The Doctor lay on the bed, gently stroking Donna's hair as she drifted off. She looked so peaceful now, but boy had she been annoyed with him when they had left the Rattigan Academy! And rightly so, considering he had promised he would always be there for her and he had jeopardised that fairly quickly. In a moment of guilt he leant forward and kissed her on the forehead; and then instantly wanted to laugh. There was a time when she would have been livid if he had tried to kiss her in such a way, but lately he often kissed her on the head and she often kissed him on the cheek. It sort of went with their pretend marriage; quite nicely in fact. He liked being able to caress her hair whenever he felt like it, staying with her until she slept was nice, cuddling her was even nicer, and soon there would be a mini Donna running about. That fact pleased him immensely, much to his surprise and shock. At one time he would have protested it was too domestic, but with Donna it seemed perfectly right; it seemed to be <em>them<em> somehow.

Donna snuffled and changed position on the bed, and he watched her indulgently, still stroking her hair to his hearts' delight. Yes, he liked this arrangement; he liked it very much he decided with a smile.

"Why're you smiling, Spaceman?" Donna mumbled at him.

"Because I have you," he readily replied, and kissed her cheek. Donna merely smiled faintly in return and went back to sleep.

* * *

><p>Martha had initially found out about the pregnancy in the factory, when the Doctor had rescued her from her bonds, by the clone vat. Donna had watched Martha's clone die before her and had burst into tears, clutching her stomach. Martha was completely puzzled when the Doctor had instantly abandoned her and cuddled Donna, telling her things would be okay, that she wouldn't suffer in such a way; and then he'd touched Donna's stomach protectively!<p>

Now the first thing that had flown through Martha's mind had been 'how dare he?' because _she_ was the one that had been held hostage by the Sontarans for hours, not Donna! Until all the tummy patting started, obviously. "What's going on?" she had demanded from them both.

"Ah, you see, Martha, the thing is," the Doctor had stammered for a few seconds.

Donna being Donna was much more blunt. "What he's trying to tell you, Martha, is that I'm pregnant. In fact you're lucky I haven't chucked up in front of you with the smell of that stuff."

"But… you said…!" Martha couldn't believe her ears. The Doctor… and Donna!

"Oh no! It isn't like that at all," the Doctor insisted, waving his hands about in emphasis. "It isn't mine!"

"How lovely that he fights so much to disown me," Donna pointed out sarcastically. "He'll be telling you next that he isn't my husband."

"But I'm not!" he instantly protested; and then looked sheepish, giving a nervous laugh. "Oh, I see what you did there."

There was an awkward moment where Martha waited for further information from the pair of them, but the Doctor merely led them onto the next thing; which happened to be a trip to the Rattigan Academy. The Doctor going onto the Sontaran spaceship and offering to die with them rather diverted their attention after that.

* * *

><p>Having Martha back in the TARDIS surprisingly made their relationship seem almost naughty! They had to creep about to talk to each other privately; and the Doctor had to sneak into Donna's bedroom to gain their nighttime routine. Why they felt they couldn't be more open and honest puzzled them, but they desperately tried to keep up appearances that 'things were not that way'.<p>

They even found themselves arranging little 'dates' when they could meet without observation during the day. It was quite invigorating, like having a secret affair. Martha knew Donna was pregnant, of course; it was hard to hide the fact now, but they still felt they couldn't show that they gave each other mutual comfort, as though it was forbidden.

They had arranged to meet in the library, and were sitting comfortably on one of the large leather sofas in there having a quiet cuddle when Martha suddenly appeared. Except they didn't see her arrive; they were too busy discussing the finer points of various washing powders when used to clean baby clothes, like you do.

Martha found them wrapped around each other, whispering low, and exchanging small innocent kisses; completely engrossed in their actions. Well, they would be perceived as innocent if they weren't compelled to sneak off and do this.

Deciding to experiment in order to determine whether or not this was an innocent situation, Martha stepped outside the library and made a noise as if she were approaching the room. The reaction was instant. The Doctor and Donna jumped apart, so that when Martha walked in officially the Doctor was standing by a bookcase while Donna remained on the sofa, supposedly engrossed in a book. Martha was not convinced by their act; but it was extremely interesting.

"What have you two been up to?" she asked as nonchalantly as she could.

"Oh this and that," the Doctor replied, as though he was being dragged out of a really interesting book. "Isn't it about time for a spot of lunch?"

"I think it is," Donna readily agreed. "Are you hungry, Martha?"

It never failed to impress Martha that the pair of them managed to make her feel included in everything when she was with them even though they were obviously sneaking around doing _something_. Did they honestly think she would be upset if they revealed their true relationship? All the fancying nonsense was firmly in her past now that she had her fiancé Tom. The Doctor wasn't hers and never had been; she had accepted that. It stung that he had easily replaced her at first. Who wouldn't be affected in such a way? But Donna had quickly won her round with her sympathy and compassion. The more she saw them together the more she could see they were good for each other. Who was she to deny them their own piece of happiness? She wasn't immature and petty enough to hate them for it.

With that in mind, she waited until they were munching their sandwiches before she asked her pertinent question. "Why are you two sneaking around seeing each other behind my back? You don't have to do that for my sake you know."

"Sneaking around? No!" the Doctor denied. "You've got it wrong, Martha. We wouldn't do anything like that."

"Are you sure?" Martha swept her beady gaze between both the Doctor and Donna.

"I think so; don't you, Donna?" The Doctor eyed Donna quizzically, daring her to say otherwise.

"Oh yes!" she readily agreed, taking her cue from him. "Why do you ask, Martha?"

"Because you…," she began to explain as the pair of them sat and looked at her with innocent expressions. They were obviously living in denial that they were doing anything that could be deemed as suspicious at all. How do you deal with that? Do you call them bare-faced liars, when she had been spying on them in a sense? Martha decided to let it ride for the time being. "…seem to have secrets," she finished saying.

The Doctor gave a derisive snort. "We all have our secrets," he argued. "Even you."

'Nowhere near as many as you, though,' Martha thought.

* * *

><p>Later on Martha deliberately excused herself to go to bed early, saying she had some reading she wanted to catch up on. She had no intention of lying in bed reading; she was going to creep back and see what they were truly up to in her absence. It might all be perfectly innocent and her mind had gone into overdrive, although she couldn't think of a single scenario that would work in that way. She only hoped that the TARDIS wouldn't tell on her.<p>

Walking softly barefoot down the corridor, she made for the library where she had last left Donna and the Doctor. As before, they were wrapped around each other on the large leather sofa, talking quietly together, when Martha peeped in.

"Well, Mrs Wife, it looks like we're going to have problems with Martha after all," the Doctor said as he embraced Donna closely and kissed her forehead.

Donna tilted up her head to kiss him back on the cheek. "I know, Dr Husband. She means well, but…"

The Doctor sighed. "I know what you mean. No one seems to understand that we aren't a couple and never will be."

"Yes," Donna tried to answer, but a yawn got in the way.

"Come on, Mrs Wife; time for bed." He released his hold on her to encourage her to stand up. As they stood, he couldn't resist giving her tiny bump a fond caress. "Junior is tuckering you out. I suppose we'll be switching you over to a maternity nightdress soon."

"Not too soon, hopefully, Dr Husband. I don't want to get too big in a hurry," she answered him, wrapping an arm around his waist.

He started to lead Donna towards her bedroom, so Martha quietly dashed to hide behind her own bedroom door. She heard the Doctor reply as they walked, "You'll never look too big in my eyes."

Donna chuckled as they both entered her bedroom. "You say that now, but just you wait until I look like a whale."

There was the sound of the Doctor starting to protest at that as the bedroom door shut tight once they were in the room.

Martha was gobsmacked. What was with all the 'Mrs Wife' and 'Dr Husband' stuff they'd been coming out with? Were they just affectionate nicknames, or were they really married? And if so why weren't they admitting it? The whole thing got curiouser and curiouser!

She resolved to see how long the Doctor spent in Donna's room, by leaving her door wide open and listening for the sound of his footsteps. She tried really hard, but when she woke up the following 'morning' Martha realised she'd not heard him leave! How where they going to explain that one? If they had anything to explain, of course.

It would be a while before she got the chance to ask.


	3. Chapter 3

**Part 3**

.

All they'd done was saunter out of the TARDIS and some idiot soldier had grabbed the Doctor's hand and shoved it into a machine; a cloning machine at that! None of them had been expecting a living adult to emerge when the machine door opened, especially one that cheerily declared, "Hello Dad!"

As usual, the Doctor had stepped in front of Donna to protect her from any possible attack. She still wasn't showing very much, so he hoped against hope that the soldiers wouldn't be interested in using her pregnancy against them. And as usual, somebody had to use their seen relationship against them. When Cobb had accused Donna of being the Doctor's woman as he threatened them, they'd made their normal denials, though they'd come out a bit feeble now that the Doctor thought about it.

And then things started to get worse. The soldier clone had set off an explosive that possibly injured Martha, if not worse; definitely separating them, and that made him mad. Fuming in fact! But inevitably it was Donna that told the clone off. The Doctor chuckled as he heard her insult the clone with the name G.I. Jane!

Hormones were running quite high on Messaline, making Donna very crotchety. Yes, him and Donna snarked at each other quite a lot that day compared to normal. Well, it was all her fault! Trying to get him to acknowledge the clone was his daughter, indeed, when she clearly wasn't. He was no more her father than he was Donna's child's… Ah, that brought up some painful thoughts.

And Donna had gone straight into mother-mode, talking to the girl, telling her about him, about life with him; and she went and named her Jenny. Why did she do that? Naming her made it all real, made her part of their family; made her his to protect.

He'd tried to ignore all that as he picked an argument with Donna in a cell; well, he tried and failed, to be honest. And when Donna had suggested testing out her womanly wiles on some hapless unimportant guard… he had nipped that little idea in the bud! No one got to test out her wiles before he did, for goodness sake!

For a long time he thought he had known what the worse thing happening could have been. He'd thought wrong. There is nothing that can prepare you for the death of a child.

* * *

><p>The Doctor had never felt as numb as he did when they trooped back to the TARDIS. He had gone through the motions as they returned to earth to take Martha home, and had only started to feel better when Donna had surreptitiously squeezed his hand. He knew he would need her comfort that night, so her protest to Martha that she would travel with him forever had been a balm on his soul.<p>

Too many hurtful thoughts had bombarded his mind as he stood at the console; so many he had almost not heard Donna sidle up and ask how he was. "See that there," she had said pressing her hands over his hearts, "it doesn't hurt because it was wrong to let her in; it hurts because you cared."

He could help smiling at that; the fact she had encouraged him to go on and find a new planet for Jenny. It was exactly what he wanted to hear. He needed a reason to carry on. And he thought he was coping so well with it all; right up until they had their evening cup of tea.

Donna had leant across to hold his hand, and asked him softly, "How are you doing, Dr Husband?"

He had gone to answer, but the words stuck in his throat. "Not so well, Mrs Wife. I need…"

She had been there like a shot, hugging him tightly. "Come to bed, and we'll do this properly," she had whispered.

"Can I stay tonight?" he had whispered back. "Stay properly, I mean."

"Of course; I'm not letting you go this time," she had soothed him. So he had stayed in the bed this time, held within her warm embrace, as he cried.

* * *

><p>It was to be the first of many nights that he climbed in next to Donna, glorifying in her comfort and the heat that radiated from her body. Who needed a hot water bottle when you had that sort of thing on tap? She certainly eased the coldness that could have so easily engulfed his soul.<p>

Not that she hadn't complained about him when he pressed up next to her in order to spoon into her back. "You're bloody freezing!" she had spat out.

He in turn had wanted to point out that was the point of lying so close to her; he needed warming up. Thank goodness he had removed most of his clothes because he was in danger of sweltering if not cooking beneath the amount of covers Donna had on her bed.

The funny thing is, once you get over the embarrassment of being under the covers in an intimate situation that doesn't bother you when you sit on a sofa, and all the worse tears have been wept, that leaves the arguments as you settle into a new routine.

"Do you have to take all the covers?" Donna kept accusing him, when he inevitably turned over to escape being boiled alive and then lost all that body heat.

"I don't do that!" the Doctor had instantly denied. "You're the one that won't share. That's when you're not trying to hog the whole bed."

"You what? Well you know what to do if you don't like it, Sunshine! Go sling your hook back to your own bed," Donna had argued, clasping her side of the covers firmly within her grip.

"I never said I wanted to leave," he huffed back. "I just want my fair share of the bed."

She had smirked back at him. "Why is it then that you spend most of the time on my side?"

"Well," he mumbled in embarrassment, and plucked absently at his share of the covers. "That's because you are over there."

"I take it you want another cuddle then?" she offered, holding out her arms in invite.

"If you're offering," the Doctor quickly replied, and scooted over to make the most of it. "Good night, Mrs Wife," he said, kissing her forehead.

"Good night, Dr Husband," she replied, kissing his cheek. "And keep those cold feet to yourself."

The Doctor merely giggled in return as he snuggled into her.

* * *

><p>"Let's see where we end up today," the Doctor said, beaming at the console. "Press the random button, Donna."<p>

"Are you sure you want to let me?" she asked, unsure why he was letting her do such an important thing. "I might mess up."

"Donna! How can you mess up pressing a simple button?" he quizzed her with a quirk of an eyebrow.

"It's part of my natural talent. You wouldn't believe how much damage I caused with a bag of humbugs," she confessed, still looking apprehensive.

"Humbugs?" the Doctor echoed. "Never mind, you can tell me later in bed." With a dismissive sniff he leaned over and pressed the random button. "See! Nothing got messed up," he pointed out smugly.

"That's because I didn't touch it," Donna insisted, much to his annoyance.

He merely groaned, held out his hand, and led her out into the warm sunshine of 1920s England.

* * *

><p>The Doctor had proudly escorted Donna into the cocktail party on the lawn of Eddison Manor. She looked absolutely lovely, and they'd found a dress that hid her baby bump so Donna was feeling very confident.<p>

The minx had tried to make him jealous though by flirting briefly with the Lady of the manor's son, Roger. It was obvious after a while that the boy was gay, but for a moment she had the Doctor on the defensive. "All the best ones are on the other bus," she had cheekily told him.

So of course he had retorted, "Or Time Lords." It stood to reason, after all. He would have said something else to burst her bubble, but at that point they'd been introduced to Agatha Christie. THE Agatha Christie! Donna had then pulled faces at him as he did his fangirly act. He couldn't help it; he was a massive fan.

"You two make an unusual couple," Agatha had remarked; and they'd both looked at their wedding rings. How do you deny such a relationship after that? You can't; so they'd both laughed knowingly.

He got his own back, by declaring she was his plucky young female assistant later on. She didn't laugh then; especially when he handed her an enormous magnifying glass.

* * *

><p>"Ginger beer?" He had thrown the question at the footman as he strove to find the cure for his cyanide poisoning. Even in the midst of his pain, the Doctor had the feeling Donna would give him what for over using that term. He hadn't meant to publically accuse the footman of being gay; it just sort of came out in the heat of the moment.<p>

That accidental accusation wasn't the only thing that came out in the heat of the moment. There was a fair bit of stupidity on Donna's part; and the Doctor made a mental note to never have her on his team if they played charades against Torchwood. No, the main heat of the moment thing happened when he demanded a shock, a big shock, to aid his detox.

He stared at her. Donna had kissed him! She had actually, properly, kissed him! And he couldn't believe what a lame response had come out of his mouth. "I must do that again," he'd said. Well! He had just been through a detox in order not to die, for goodness sake! Give a Time Lord a break!

"Donna…," he had started to say to her, when they got the chance to draw breath.

"Later, Spaceman," she had instantly replied; shutting him up on that topic for the time being. But he would return to it; oh yes!

But first he had a mystery to solve; and unfortunately it didn't involve those pesky kids.

* * *

><p>Back home in the kitchen she was avoiding looking at him. It was so unlike her to do that.<p>

"Tea?" she had asked, and turned so that he couldn't see her face. He thought that was decidedly odd.

So he had deliberately sidled up to her to find out why. "Mrs Wife, what's the matter?" he gently asked as an opener for their conversation.

"Nothing!"

She'd almost flinched away from him. He knew it couldn't be the tone of his voice, so it must have been his words; or two words in particular. "Have I said something wrong?" he pressed her. "Do I… Should I stop calling you 'Mrs Wife'? Don't you like it anymore?"

"It's…" She turned her teary eyed face to look him square in the eye. "I don't know what I think anymore! I'm not sure if I should call you 'Dr Husband', because… it suddenly feels wrong," she finished saying in a small voice.

He immediately hugged her tightly, and kissed her forehead; just like he normally did. "There's nothing to worry about. It's you and me again; no prying Martha, no disapproving people. Just us and junior to concern ourselves with," he told her as brightly as he could. "I'll put the kettle on and we'll have a nice cup of tea."

"Thank you!" she replied, and kissed his cheek in return. Her relief was almost tangible.

"We'll have this cuppa, and then you, young lady, are going to have some rest," he insisted.

"But Doctor…," she began to protest.

"No buts! We have to think of junior here," he pointed out; and gave into his need to caress her baby bump. "He'll thank you for it later."

Donna gave a wry chuckle. "What makes you think he gives a monkey's?"

"Of course he'll care! With us as his parents he can't fail to," the Doctor argued; and added in a pout for good measure.

"A pretend marriage, _and_ pretend fatherhood. Blimey! Isn't all this a bit too domestic for you?" she teased him.

"I wouldn't have it any other way… now about this tea," he said, deliberately distracting her.

* * *

><p>"I told you, I don't need to lie down," Donna griped as the Doctor almost dragged her into the bedroom.<p>

"And I told you that you have to. Trust me; I'm a doctor," he retorted. He got the answering laugh he was after. He sat on the bed and pulled her down to him. "Now listen, Mrs Wife; you are going to lie here for at least an hour. And if you are good, I shall stay here with you."

"Are you not well, Dr Husband," she mocked him, feeling his brow. "Don't you have some emergency repair to do with the dooflippery?"

"No!" he replied indignantly. "You make me sound bad." He then beamed cheerily at her, "I did almost die earlier, remember. I have your detox technique to thank."

Donna immediately blushed a deep shade of pink. "I didn't do anything much," she mumbled.

"I don't call saving my life anything!" He laid down, and pulled her into his embrace, kissing her forehead. "Your quick thinking saved the day. Or should that be phrased 'saved the Time Lord'?"

Her hand fluttered across his chest. "Anyone could have thought of using a kiss like that to shock you," she said modestly.

"Ah, but it wasn't just the fact it was a kiss, it was the way you kissed me," he clarified.

She lifted her head to blink in confusion at him. "It was only a kiss like this." And she kissed his cheek with a bit more force than normal.

He brought a hand up to rub a thumb tenderly along her jaw. "You know, you can kiss me in other places, if you want to," he suggested.

"Like where? Are we drawing up a list?" she teased him.

"If you like," he said mischievously. "We could start with here…" He kissed her cheek. "There's here…" He kissed the tip of her nose, ever mindful whether she liked this or not. She didn't seem to mind; so he took the next step. "And I thought I'd try here…" He placed a brief, chaste kiss upon her lips.

"Well, that's four places to consider," she commented.

"Except I was suggesting you do the kissing," he murmured next to her mouth. "I can demonstrate what I mean."

As he crept closer still, Donna brought up her hand and pushed him away; much to his surprise. "I can't!" she told him forlornly. "It isn't you, it's me; honest it is. I think you're really lovely, and I'm tremendously flattered but… I haven't done anything like this since Peter and I'm not sure I should."

"Oh!" the Doctor responded as best he could in the circumstances; but he felt so utterly rejected. "I wasn't trying to step on any toes…"

"You're not," she insisted, grabbing hold of his hands. "I'm not saying that you can't kiss me; I'm saying I won't necessarily kiss you back."

"I see," he said, not really seeing at all but knowing from living with Donna that one of the things you don't do as a bloke is argue with a pregnant woman. Logic doesn't always make an appearance. Perhaps it is also on another bus?

"I'm so glad you understand!" she exclaimed, and threw her arms around his neck to give him a grateful hug.

He happily returned it. "So, can we still do all the other stuff? Has anything changed?" he wondered apprehensively.

"You big softie!" she chided him. "You can still sleep in here, and have all your hugs. The only difference is that you don't have to kiss me only on the forehead."

"And what about you?" he tried to clarify. "Are you sticking to only cheeks?"

She pulled back to give him a mischievous grin. "We'll see what happens, shall we?"

He beamed happily at her before seeking out another hug.

* * *

><p>"Did you see what happened to my book, Mrs Wife?" he asked as he swept his gaze over the bedside table and then bent down low to look under the bed.<p>

"What book, Dr Husband? If you mean the 'Designs of the Alkarian Mularkan Drive for Geeks', I put it back in the library," she explained as she lay in the bed watching him expectantly. She then put her own book down to peer over the side of the bed with him.

"Aw, I wanted to keep that book in here; but no, I meant my 'A Dad's Guide to Babycare'. I'm sure I left it right here," he said as he looked up at her. Doing so, he suddenly had the mad urge to kiss her, and not just on the forehead.

"You've thought of something, haven't you? You've gone all mushy thinking about junior," she softly accused him.

He immediately blushed to the tips of his ears, and he nervously rubbed the back of his neck. "No," he denied. "I wasn't thinking of being mushy."

She patted the bed in invitation. "Get up here then."

As he clambered onto the bed, Donna reached for him, wrapping her arms around his waist to draw his body closer. "See, I'm not all mushy," he pointed out in a low voice. He promptly felt himself almost go all mushy when she lifted a hand to tenderly caress his face.

"You may be a lot of things but you are never mushy, my spaceman," she whispered.

He geared himself up to kiss her; to properly taste her lips without fear of dying or a mouthful of condiments. Momentarily checking that she wasn't pulling away from him, he pressed forward and placed his lips on her mouth. Her lips were soft, very soft; but that was it. There was no returning pressure from her, so he reluctantly stopped. "Too soon?" he asked.

Before answering him, she kissed his cheek. "Still too soon. Sorry."

He then conjured up all his courage to ask, "Do you want me to take you to see Peter?" He could almost feel the bile rising from his stomach into his mouth as he said the name.

"No," she insisted with a shake of her head. "I'm definitely not ready for that yet."

With heavy hearts he nestled them down into their usual sleeping position, and tried desperately not to be disappointed. She had said the word 'yet'. That sort of implied that she would want to see Peter in the future. Did that also mean she would go off with Peter if the opportunity arose? Would she leave him? He couldn't bear the thought of losing her; not now. Not after they'd been through so much together.

He absolutely dreaded what could be coming up in their future.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** Sorry for the delay, but my migraines won't bugger off! And I might add more to this chapter at a later date...

* * *

><p><strong>Part 4<strong>

.

"A beach! You found me a beach!" Donna exclaimed excitedly, as she whirled on the sand to take everything in.

The Doctor stood smugly watching her. "And not only that; it's also deserted so you can wear that bikini you desperately wanted to try out."

"Oh do be serious! I can't wear anything as revealing as a bikini; I look like an elephant," she said despondently. "I'd put you right off your dinner!"

"Donna! You are pregnant, and blooming. Don't be ashamed of your body; please don't," the Doctor begged. He pulled her into a consoling hug, and whispered close into her ear enticingly, "It's only us, so there's nothing to stop you wearing whatever you like. You could even go naked if you fancied it."

She playfully swatted at his upper arm. "Give over! You don't half talk crap at times. Anyone would think you want to look."

"Anyone would be perfectly correct," he purred; and then caught her suspicious expression. "I didn't mean the nakedness, just the looking at you part…," he added with an embarrassed sniff.

"If you were any other bloke I'd have thought you were after a quick shoofty, but I know you would avoid getting too much of an eyeful." She gave him a wry smile.

"I… erm…," he spluttered.

"Hold that thought," she mischievously told him, and disappeared inside the TARDIS to change. She reappeared swathed in a beach dress, hat and sunglasses, carrying a beach bag.

"Expecting to do a spot of spying?" he asked her.

"Nothing beyond your pale flesh," she answered, and settled herself down onto the warm sand. Looking up at him she added, "If you ever manage to take your suit off."

"Ah, now, Mrs Wife; you know full well that I'm capable of taking this all off." He gave her a wink.

She decided to ignore the thought of him as he normally dressed at night; or should that be undressed? "Just pretend you like sunbathing for a few seconds, and come and help me put this sun cream on," she ordered him. "Otherwise, Dr Husband, I may have to consider ditching you for another bloke."

He eagerly took the offered bottle of sun cream from her hand, and sat himself down to enjoy his task. Releasing a large splodge of cream onto his hands, he lifted the edge of her beach dress out of the way and began to apply it. "Stop it!" she shrieked out with loud giggles. "That tickles!"

"You mean this…?" he asked as he swept his fingertips over her back, making her squirm even more. "No, you can't mean that!"

"That is it! You are getting your kit off right now, and you will bare your chest to that thing up in the sky called a sun," she threatened. She added emphasis to her words by tackling the buttons of his shirt and yanking off his tie.

He laughed hard at the absurdity of her undressing him. He laughed right up to the point when they were kneeling face to face, chest to chest, and skin to skin; and then he inevitably sobered. The bottle of sunscreen was ignored as he grasped her head, bringing her lips closer until he dipped forward. "Donna…," he whispered.

His eyes fluttered shut as he landed softly to kiss her tempting lips; and then an extremely strong hand gripped the back of his collar and yanked him away.

"Doctor?" Donna yelled as he was pulled away from her body, leaving her grasping at air.

Some massive being with fists the size of small dogs handed her a piece of paper. "You have violated code order number 7-2b!" it growled at her.

"That's my husband you've just run off with!" she angrily pointed out, having glanced expertly at the paper outlining the offense they had caused. "Not some punter! Bring him back right now or I'll sue the backside off you! Off the pair of you," she added to include both the beings wavering in front of her on the beach.

The Doctor couldn't be heard apart from a few muffles, thanks to the hand that had been clamped firmly over his mouth.

Donna went into full manic pregnant woman mode. "I'm not warning you again! Hand him back NOW!" she roared at the beings and bore down on them menacingly.

"But he… was going to abuse your sacred body," the one holding the Doctor stammered in its defence.

Donna held up her hand and ring finger in demonstration. "He's allowed to touch me, you half-baked walking potato scumbag! We're MARRIED! What part of that don't you understand?"

Two hours later Donna was sat slumped on a bench outside what passed for a courthouse on the planet, waiting for the Doctor to be reunited with her. The décor was atrocious! Even Laurence Llewellyn Bowen wouldn't have dreamed up something so outlandish. Plus, a little bit of padding on the seats wouldn't have gone amiss.

"Donna Noble, your property is ready for you," announced someone in the distance; right before the Doctor and a beach bag were shoved towards her.

They hugged each other enthusiastically. "We're going to have to give up these beach holidays," the Doctor told her. "They're proving to be a bit of a bind."

"I'm sorry for wanting a beach," she immediately apologised, hugging him again.

He wiped a thumb tenderly over her cheek. "Hey! Don't worry. I'm the one that should be worried, what with everyone thinking I'm married to a convicted felon," he teased.

"Don't!" she exclaimed with deep embarrassment. "Not that they totally had it coming… What with all the grabbiness." She flexed her fingers in remembrance.

"Of course," he agreed, grinning like an idiot. "They deserved every slap and wallop." He reached down to grasp her hand. "Ready for our next adventure?"

"Bring it on, Dr Husband," she answered. "Almost anything has to be better than this place."

* * *

><p>Donna changed her tune about that once they landed in the Library, and even more so when he tricked her into being transported into the TARDIS.<p>

It had started off pleasantly enough. Well, when I say pleasantly, I really mean weirdly. Weird in a 'where the heck is everyone?' way. The whole place was deserted; and for a whole planet, known as The Library, that was decidedly weird and scary. The scary part started when the lights started going out; just after that creepy node.

"It's got a face!" Donna had exclaimed in shock. "It's got a face that it thought I'd like!"

"It's just like donating a park bench," the Doctor had commented in a vain attempt to calm her down. Perhaps pointing out it had once been a real person hadn't been such a good idea in hindsight.

On the other hand, it had given him an opportunity to hug her closely in public, and she didn't always allow that. Junior had kicked against his hand as he ran it over her bump; and the feeling sent a thrill through him. It also made him determined to protect her with his last breath. "Donna, fancy a look around?" he had asked her; trying to entice her with his eager schoolboy expression.

"Try stopping me," she had answered keenly. "I'm making the most of still being able to run."

"Just don't expect piggybacks later, that's all I'm saying for now," he teased.

She snorted her derision. "I'm more likely to get lean back bacon, but thanks for even thinking about it."

It was on the tip of his tongue to admit that he was thinking much more pleasant thoughts were she was concerned as they strolled along, when he noticed the lights. Or should that be the lack of lights? "Run!" he had shouted; so they had ran.

Donna was most impressive as she kicked down a wooden door that the sonic wouldn't budge. It was also enlightening, and slightly threatening, when she admitted the element of surprise was needed with boyfriends. Did they mean that she would kick down his bedroom door at some point.. possibly.. you know, if he ever got her to admit they were anywhere near being like that? It was quite thrilling too, in a way.

He was about to tell her some of his thoughts when he noticed the retro- football webcam thing.

Things went downhill after that. Especially when the suits arrived.

* * *

><p>Donna glared at the interloper in the white spacesuit. The tart was muscling in on the Doctor, giving him all the giggly girl act when she thought Donna wasn't looking. 'The utter bitch!' Donna thought. She'd have thought something lots worse, but for some reason her pregnancy hormones were affecting her memory. They'd nothing to affect her need to slap someone into next Tuesday though. Funny that!<p>

She had taken the opportunity to saunter over to him to softly enquire, "What's going on Dr Husband? Is the Klingon giving you grief?"

He looked briefly up from his task to answer her question. "Klingon, Mrs Wife? Oh! You mean 'cling on'! Well, she claims she knows me in the future. Who's to say whether or not that's true? This could be our bunny boiler moment," he suggested, grinning broadly at her.

A thunderous expression crossed her features. That would entail him straying, and she'd be damned if she let that happen to her again! Through gritted teeth, she commented, "You may act like the Energiser Bunny at times but if you _dare_ play hide the thimble with that woman, I swear I shall hunt you down with a double-barrelled shotgun. And the last words you shall ever hear will be me saying 'what's up, doc?'"

"Donna!" he crooned soothingly, wrapping his arms instantly around her. He kissed her forehead. "Why would I let some bimbo turn my head away from you, eh? We're the three musketeers; me, you and junior. There's no way I'd look elsewhere. You know how I feel."

"Do you mean that?" she whispered, searching his eyes for the truth.

He poured everything into his returning gaze. "I… Hang on! Why has he got a second shadow? " he suddenly queried as the pilot of the exploration team caught his attention.

There followed a whirlwind experiment that led to the discovery that the planet was being attacked by the Vashta Nerada. Who'd have thought they would encounter flesh eating zombie books? Well, no one who was wise enough to lay a bet on it, that was for sure!

"Spaceman, is junior safe?" Donna agitatedly asked him, grabbing his arm when she got the chance. "Shouldn't we have one of those spacesuits too?"

He had carefully considered her. "You know what? You're right. Come on!"

"Where?" she asked as he dashed her along. "Why are we going this way?" she wondered as they ran passed a display of fancy looking pens that would go rather nicely with her…

"Donna!" he yelled. "The little shop always has an exit. So stand right there for a second, while I…"

And then he flickered from her vision; and she flickered from his. The bastard! He had sent her away at the first opportunity, and there was going to be hell to pay!

* * *

><p>A tall, rather attractive man wearing glasses greeted her. "Hello, Donna," he brightly said.<p>

She returned the greeting, and swept her gaze over the unfamiliar room. "Where am I?"

"You've been ill," he explained in his extremely soothing voice. It was the sort of voice that made you trust him immediately and want to lie down in a chocolate cake; if you have that sort of sleeping fantasy, and not because you are a kinky wombat or anything… Anyway, it was a nice voice. Let's say no more about it.

Donna ran her hands down her body to check that she was all there, and instantly frowned. "Wasn't I pregnant, erm… whatever your name is?" she asked the man.

"I'm Dr Moon," he supplied. "You thought you were pregnant; and then you forgot."

"So I did," she agreed. She then looked around, seeking someone. "Where's my husband? He always fixes things."

"Ah! I have something to tell you," Dr Moon admitted, and led her into the landscaped garden that surrounded the hospital they stood in.

* * *

><p>Donna found herself walking by a small lake flanked by a line of trees. "About your husband, Donna," Dr Moon was telling her, looking very concerned as they walked along. "John was in a very serious accident. The same one you were in. Don't worry…" He held a hand up when she went to interrupt him with questions. "…he isn't dead, but the prognosis isn't good." Dr Moon then stopped and faced her, placing a consoling hand on her arm. "He might never come out of his coma, and you have to prepare yourself for the worst."<p>

She threw a hand over her mouth in shock. "Oh my God! But he can't die; I won't give up on him. He's all I've got. I love him, Dr Moon!" she declared.

"I know," Dr Moon soothed her. "Would you like to see him?"

Donna had no sooner nodded her head in agreement then she was in the Intensive Care Unit, looking down at John's lifeless body as machines blipped and tubes pumped vital nutrients into his body. "John!" she cried out, and rushed forward to hold his hand; grasping it desperately in a vain attempt to reach him. Why did his name sound so wrong to her? This was the man she loved after all. She'd been married to him for as long as she could remember.

"Donna, why don't you go and rest?" a passing nurse asked her.

"No, I won't," she insisted sternly. "I'm not leaving him again. Bad things happen when we are separated."

So the nurse shook her head and left her there.

The next time Donna glanced out of the window the season had changed. Hadn't it been autumn when she had sat down there? It was clearly spring outside when she lifted her head from where it rested against John's arm. The appearance of Dr Moon made her start.

"I think it is time for you to move on," he suggested gently.

But Donna shook her head, as before. "No," she replied firmly. "I'm staying here. He needs me; I just can't get up and walk away."

"You need to meet fresh people, start a new life for yourself," Dr Moon advised her. "It doesn't look like he will be joining you after all."

"I don't want to!" she answered, surprising herself by bursting into tears. "He's my life!"

As she said the words the machine that had been bleeping let out a low monotonous tone, and she struggled to grasp his hand.

The next thing Donna was aware of was standing by a grave; an established grave with a stone that bore the inscription: 'John Peter Noble, Beloved husband of Donna'

'This is wrong; this is so wrong!' kept ringing through her head. As she lifted her head to try and scream her way out of this nightmare Dr Moon appeared by her side, offering much needed support.

"Come and meet some other people," he cajoled her.

She had barely agreed when she found herself sitting with a friendly looking group of people. One man kept trying to get her to smile back at him, but she didn't want to consider anyone else yet.

"I see you've got a new man in your life," Dr Moon remarked to her.

"Have I?" she asked with some surprise, and was amazed to see the smiling man standing by her side.

"Yes, you met Lee here," Dr Moon informed her.

She went to question this, when Dr Moon's image stuttered and the Doctor stood in his place.

"Donna!" he cried out in anguish.

"John!" she yelled out and reached for him, but he fizzled away, leaving Dr Moon in his place. "I just saw John! What have you done with him?" she demanded.

Dr Moon merely smiled patronisingly at her. "You thought you were alone so you conjured up John, and then you forgot."

Donna blinked a few times. What had she been thinking about? Something about missing someone, apparently. This was becoming too much; she felt so tired…

And then she was in her lonely bedroom, getting ready for bed; when something fell through the letterbox. Wondering who on earth would be delivering anything so late; she peeped out of the window and saw a figure in black with a familiar gait.

Racing to the front door, she found a note. It cryptically said that the world was all wrong. Wrong? She wanted to meet the mysterious woman… and suddenly she was; standing by the large tree that overshadowed John's grave. "Who are you, and what do you want from me?" Donna instantly asked. It only took a few moments, but she knew this woman was what was left of Miss Evangelista after she died in the Library.

"Look around you," she advised Donna. "It's all the same."

In confusion, Donna stumbled away. What the heck was Miss Evangelista on about? Okay, she might have traded in IQ points when her looks were taken away but surely she'd got it wrong? At that point Donna happened to glance at the grave next to her. What? But it said… as did the next grave, and the next! Where exactly was John? Had she been mourning a carbon copy? This suggested that her grief wasn't real at all!

* * *

><p>There was a blaze of light surrounding her, and then she was being sucked into another dimension. One that was miles darker, and smelt of damp wood. She was standing on what looked like a glorified speak your weight machine in the Library little shop, and for quite a few seconds she had no idea where she was or even who she was. She was just a cork bobbing in the sea of faces that greeted her sight.<p>

She pushed through the crowd expecting to see someone, but not quite knowing who. It was a he; that part was a definite. Now if she could only recall what he looked like… He was old, and yet not, and he had hair. She scoffed at herself then! Fancy speaking to herself about him in terms of his hair. It wasn't as if every other bloke was completely bald, after all.

Although wouldn't it be funny if that fluffy hairstyle was a complete fake and he wore a wig? And that suit could easily cover up a robot body. A body that frequently snuggled up close and enticingly next to hers in bed, hugging her tightly, and sweeping those ripe, full lips against her skin. How many times had she wanted to shag him senseless, but had deliberately battled on to resist him? What a stupid cow she was!

Her hands immediately fluttered to her stomach, and she let out an agonised gasp. She had forgotten about junior! How could she have possibly done that? It was unthinkable, and she wanted to weep for her stupidity. The Doctor would disown her at this rate.

The Doctor! That was his name. Where was he? Had he truly abandoned her? Had that tart got her claws into him, and she'd have to commit a murder, or a double murder, by the end of the day? Because she would! With her bare hands if necessary.

"Ah! You're back!" exclaimed a familiar voice as a hand grabbed hers and shook it violently. Donna found herself gazing at a spacesuit holding the form of Mr Lux. "It worked; they managed to save everyone from the computer."

"They?" Donna faintly echoed.

"The Doctor and Professor Song. They were down by the core together," he explained.

'I bet they were!' Donna found she was fuming. "Where?" she demanded. "Where exactly is the core?"

Mr Lux looked confused. "Over there on the elevator pad," he said, pointing in the necessary direction.

"Thanks!" Donna replied, and stormed over to take a ride down to the core. "You'd better be dying and injured, Doctor," she muttered to herself as she travelled down.

Donna found him, eventually, handcuffed to a pipe as he sat glumly regarding Professor River Song's body. She had to squat down in front of him before he reacted; so lost in his thoughts was he. Then she spotted the sonic screwdriver just out of his reach, and she realised how agonising his plight must have been. "Oh Spaceman!" she sighed as she released his wrist from the handcuff.

His body sunk into her embrace. "Is it really you, or is this a dream?" he faintly asked her. "Are you a ghost?"

She sniffed back some tears, and tenderly caressed his face. "It's me, Donna, Spaceman. Alive and kicking. Well, when I say kicking it's junior doing all that." To add emphasis to her words she pressed his hand onto her stomach; and junior complied with a wee squirm.

The Doctor grinned as he felt the tiny movements against his hand. "It really is you!" he softly exclaimed. In the next instant he was crushing his mouth down onto hers, and she felt powerless to resist; giving him the comfort he demanded. She also grabbed a few moments of comfort for herself as she fought to ignore the memories of her fictitious life inside the computer. In fact she wanted to swoon and die beneath his lips.


End file.
